Compilation
by fionascales
Summary: A series of one-shots surrounding John Allerdyce (Pyro) and Jubilation Lee (Jubilee). Ratings may change, other characters will be featured. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated, but don't be rude.
1. Hiking

It was a cool October day. The sun was shining, the air was brisk, there was not a cloud in the sky…

And Jubilee was in hell.

Scott had convinced the Professor to have Wolverine take a group of the senior students on a two-day survival boot camp in the mountains. That group of course consisted of Bobby, Rogue, Kitty, Piotr, John, and Jubilee—and skipping it was not an option. So, at 6 in the morning, the six sleepy teens and one cantankerous Canadian were dropped at the base of the mountain. The goal, Wolverine had grunted at them around his cigar, was to get to their base about halfway up the mountain before dark.

The early hour and basis of the exercise meant that there had not been time for the bleary-eyed firecracker to properly caffeinate. Quiet grumbles and elaborate swears in a few different languages could be heard escaping her lips as she trudged along at the back of the pack. She was too busy bitching to herself and shooting death glares at her Timberlands to notice that one of their party had hung back a bit until she collided with him at full force. The impact knocked her flat on her back, or as flat as she could be with the gigantic hiking pack strapped to her. Her frustration and exhaustion got the best of her and she released an exaggerated huff. Her sapphire eyes narrowed at the clear blue above her, until a smirking face blocked her view.

"How's the view from down there, Pipsqueak?" John chuckled, his eyebrow raised in that annoying way he had perfected. Jubilee's only response was a middle finger salute and a loud raspberry blown his way. John rolled his eyes. "That's adorable, really. C'mon, get your ass up—they're not gonna wait for us."

"I can't," she moaned pitifully, allowing her eyes to widen as much as they could into her (patent pending) combination of anime and puppy eyes. "This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it."

His eyes rolled so hard she thought they would fall out of his head. "Shut up. We've only been hiking for twenty minutes."

She grumbled again and sat up, unbuckling her pack to give her petite frame some relief. "I'm not made for this shit, dude. I'm all for the gung-ho, punching baddies training montage with the frickin' Rocky theme, but this great outdoors, Bear Grylls, "naked and afraid" nonsense? Hell nah. Stick me in the Danger Room where I belong." Jubilee pouted and tugged her knit cap off, brushing her hand through her short ebony locks.

John knew she had a point. During simulated missions, the two of them were usually on the defensive side, compared to Kitty's high offensive skills. He flopped down next to her, nudging her until she finally looked his way. "How about this—you use some of that pull with the mountain man and those blue goo-goo eyes to get us out of this, and I'll owe you."

A perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "Owe me… _what_ , exactly?" He grinned crookedly, his eyes blazing.

"Wouldn't you rather find out?"

She flushed a light pink and stammered for a moment before clearing her throat and activating the video communicator that Scott had bestowed on them earlier that morning. Logan's face appeared on the screen, and he did not look pleased.

"Where the hell are you and the Sparkplug, Lee?!" The normally laconic Canadian snarled. John's snarky retort was cut off as Jubilee smiled weakly at the screen, playing up her tiredness.

"Heya Wolvster. I got kind of lightheaded and thought I was gonna drop, so Allerdyce hung back to make sure I was okay. I think I got that seasonal flu that's been going around the mansion."

Logan took in her flushed cheeks, glassy looking eyes, and overall exhausted appearance and growled to himself. "Fine. Call Summers to pick ya up. Take the kid with ya, the last thing I need is him and Drake sniping at each other. Get some rest because when I get back, you're on three-a-days with me in the Danger Room for a week."

She winced internally and saluted him. _Well, it's better than living an episode of Man vs. Wild._ She called Scott and relayed Wolverine's orders to him, and before long they were back at Xavier's, sans survival packs and peeling off their extensive outerwear that was intended to protect them from the elements.

"So," John said casually, hanging their coats in the closet while Jubilee kicked off her boots, "you held up your end of the bargain. Guess I owe ya now." She blushed again, toying with the sleeve of her Henley.

"Guess you do. So what did ya have in mind?" He stepped closer to her, his fringe falling into his smoldering eyes.

"Well, you're sick, right? Guess I have to take care of you."

* * *

A/N: Wow, I haven't written anything in years. It was time to get back out there. This is a prompt I found on Pinterest, "The Fake Redhead Prompt #135". The creator also has a website, 'TheFakeRedhead' followed by the dot com. This oneshot is the first of many, in a series where I will be attempting different writing styles to see what works best for me. Obviously, this one was very dialogue and character heavy. I can promise they won't all be like that, however this is the way I've written for many years, and it comes a fair bit easier to me. Please let me know what you think.


	2. Barista

He was a regular by now. She knew his routine almost by heart. He would enter the coffee shop, either a laptop or journal under his arm, fishing crumpled bills out of his pocket. Dark hair, dark shadows beneath dark eyes, dark stubble at his jawline, asking for a black coffee. He would sit at the one table with one leg shorter than the others, the one that other customers avoided. He'd settle in, take exactly one sip of his burning hot coffee, then lose himself staring at either the screen or page. Sometimes he would jot down a few words, occasionally allowing a quiet "fuck" to slip past his lips, but for the most part he was silent and still. When his reverie would break, he'd take another sip of his coffee, only to grimace and find it had gone cold—and that was when she would be there, another hot coffee appearing before him.

She remembered the first time she'd seen him. It was only her second or third day, which of course meant that the shop would be swarmed with customers, all with elaborate orders that included words she had never heard before. The morning rush had just ended, all patrons of the shop collecting their caffeinated beverages and hurrying off to their corporate jobs, in their high-rise skyscrapers. He had been a welcome reprieve, his gravelly voice requesting the simplest of orders. During her down time, she took to watching him in his quiet reverence. He was fascinating to her, a clear outsider in the hustle and bustle of New York City. His stillness contrasted remarkably with the city people passing the window behind him. Every time he was here she watched him, and every day she fell a little more in love with him.

She was well aware of how ridiculous she was. They had only exchanged a few words to each other, never anything of consequence, only little remarks about the weather or comments on his order. She didn't even know his name, and she was pretty sure he had no idea what hers was, as she tended to "forget" her nametag in her locker—really, she just didn't need strangers commenting on how unusual her name is. So day after day, he came in, he ordered coffee, he sat quietly, and she stared.

God, she was such a _creep_.

Today though, the story changed. His hands flew across the keyboard so quickly, she thought she saw sparks flying from his fingertips. His eyes gleamed, his lips quirked into a strange half smile, his dark hair falling into his dark eyes. He paused momentarily now and again to sip his coffee before resuming his fervent typing. Her shift ended and she didn't notice, because she was enraptured with the work of art unfolding before her. Before, he had never stayed long enough for her shift to end, he usually left at least an hour before she did, sometimes pulling at his hair in frustration. She finally stepped into the staffroom, expecting him to be gone when she emerged, as if he'd never been there at all.

Today, she felt his eyes on her—for a change—as she stepped back onto the main floor. Her apron and hat were hung in her locker, her uniform shirt haphazardly shoved in her bag, having changed into a yellow tank more suited for the warm day outside. Her gaze met his for a moment, and she smiled softly at him, before continuing to walk toward the door. His eyes followed her, noted her hesitation when she reached the exit, and closed when she stepped through the door. She watched him through the window, caught between choices, and saw how his eyes remained closed.

Exhaling heavily, she steeled herself and stepped back inside, slowly making her way to his table. As if he could sense her presence, his eyes opened and caught hers the moment she stepped in front of him. He smiled. She reciprocated.

"Hi."

* * *

A/N: As before, based on a prompt I found on Pinterest. "Barista falls in love with a customer". A basic premise, but this one gave me trouble for a few weeks- perhaps it was my attempt to do something not dialogue heavy and to keep it fairly ambiguous. Obviously, it was written with Pyro and Jubilee in mind, but I like to believe you could mentally insert other characters into the situation. I'm fairly happy with how it's turned out. Please let me know what you think.


End file.
